*photo from James Merrell
The English food writer Nigella Lawson, famous for her television cooking shows, her cookbooks, her sexy image, and her marriage to art collector Charles Saatchi, is surely one of the most gracious people I have ever met. It was 2003, and I had been testing her recipes for her twice-monthly column in the New York Times for about a year. Her recipes were sent to me by email, and I tested and edited them and returned them to my editors at the Times along with copies to Nigella. It was she who suggested that we finally meet for tea at the cafe in her hotel on one of her trips to New York, and I persuaded my husband (with little difficulty) to join me there since we were meeting friends afterward.

But I was delayed, caught in a stalled train with no cell-phone reception. Once freed from the subway, I ran, arriving at the hotel considerably late. She and my husband were sitting, chatting, in the cafe, and as I approached them I could sense the electricity in the room. She was the focal point, both men and women turning their heads slightly, sliding their eyes sideways, to look at her. It may have been because she is famous. Certainly it was, in part, because she is so very beautiful. But more than that, she has a compelling aura that is surely what has catapulted her to unrivaled fame as a British food writer and television personality. But when I finally met her after many months of correspondence—I tardy, disheveled, and apologetic—she greeted me with a natural elegance that made me feel comfortable and relaxed.

The daughter of a prominent Conservative English politician, Nigel Lawson, Nigella Lawson grew up in England, graduated from Oxford University, and, after holding a number of jobs related to food and journalism, in 1986 was appointed deputy literary editor of the Sunday Times. Her first cookbook, How to Eat, was published in 1998, followed by an award-winning second book, How to Be a Domestic Goddess, in 2000, the same year she began to host her first television cooking show, Nigella Bites. Her cookbook of the same name was a best-seller in Britain and the United States, and subsequent books include Forever Summer (Style Network, 2003), Feast: Food to Celebrate Life (Hyperion, 2004), and Nigella Express: 130 Recipes for Good Food, Fast (Hyperion, 2007).

Warm and modest, Nigella Lawson in person, on screen, and in print seems like a sister or a friend, ready to talk companionably about food, family, and the pleasures of home. I recently interviewed her by phone and email, about how she cooks now, and her perspective on the food world in the United States. Her most recent cookbook, Nigella Express, will be re-launched for the holidays this year, and her kitchen products, called Living Kitchen, are widely available in the United States.

How would you describe the way you cook, and the way you eat?
I would really describe my cooking style as “spontaneous,” and I’m afraid there is no better description of my way of eating than “greedily.” But the greed inspires the spontaneity, because it means when I cook, I’m just after the most delicious meal I can get, with what’s around, and with however little time I have.

Do you think Americans eat differently from Europeans? If so, how and why?
I think probably there is more difference in eating style between country and city than there is between the U.S. and U.K. In the big cities, of either country, the huge range of global ingredients can really mean that we cook from the same, extended palate, and cosmopolitan holds sway. In the rural areas, it’s probably true to say that regional traditions and preferences still hold greater sway, though you are lucky in the States as I feel that regionalism in the kitchen is more respected and enduring. And of course, between the two countries there are always going to be differences because of the differing ethnicities: in Britain, for example, Indian food has always played a historical part; whereas in the United States, there is a vibrant Latin influence. Perhaps the one difference, too, is that U.S. portion sizes tend to be a little bit larger than British ones, but maybe that is changing.

What are the latest trends in British cooking? How has the British food scene changed in the past fifteen years or so?
I am luckily not affected by trends, being a home cook rather than a chef, and so modishness and fashion fads play a much less strong part. But as it is nearly all over the world, Italian food remains a trend that is never—happily—going to go away. Thai food has really become much more prevalent in the U.K. over the last fifteen years, but apart from that I’d certainly say that British food has been much more “Europeanized,” though in the last five years or so, many chefs have been keen to revisit—often lightening—traditional English dishes.

 *photo from James Merrell
Do you eat breakfast? If so, what do you like to eat?
I do eat breakfast. I’ll have a soft-boiled egg on toast, or granola with yogurt and pomegranate seeds, or toast with marmalade. I just made pink grapefruit marmalade, one of my favorites.

Pink grapefruit marmalade! That sounds great. Has the recipe been published?
It’s in my book Domestic Goddess. (How to Be a Domestic Goddess: Baking and the Art of Comfort Cooking, Hyperion, 2000. See recipe on page 71.)

What do you cook for yourself at home for supper?
I roast a chicken very often, and indeed still rely much on family-style roast dinners much as my mother did. But since I have children, I must admit that pasta features heavily, too.

Are there any quirky or unusual combinations of foods or flavors that you especially enjoy?
I am not much one for quirkiness, I think, and although I do like the English habit of rich fruit chutneys with cold meats, which can seem strange to some, on the whole I like food that isn’t a-dazzle with novelty.

What do you think of fusion cuisine? Are there any combinations that you think are particularly successful—or unsuccessful?
Fusion cuisine, when it works, can bring bright new flavors to food, but too often it just leads to recipes with a ridiculous pileup of ingredients and ends in, frankly, confusion cuisine. The sort of combinations I don’t want to absorb into my cooking are the “cheffy” innovations, such as sea bass with vanilla sauce. And I loathe anything with some cappuccino-style, frothed savory sauce.

Do your children enjoy cooking and eating? What’s your philosophy about how to raise a child with healthy eating habits? How can one avoid having a child who is a “picky eater”?
I’m afraid my children prefer anything with carbohydrates: they’d rather have pasta or risotto every day if they could. When it comes to cooking, they prefer baking, and they like to help—though help is not always the word I’d use!—me make brownies and cookies, and they love to frost a cake. I don’t honestly believe you can avoid having a child who is a picky eater. I make them try everything, but I don’t make them eat what they don’t like. I think this can be counterproductive, and in the end, I hope that if there is enough good food offered, sooner or later they will return to a more expansive way of eating.

My kids certainly ate everything when they were little, but as they’ve gotten older (now twelve, thirteen, and fourteen) have become pickier. But I believe, and hope, they will one day return to the fold. And if they don’t like, say, green vegetables, I don’t push it, though sometimes letting them add soy (sauce) will make broccoli, say, more palatable to them. Some people may object to the salt, but I think you can’t be too health-obsessive, and a little of everything is the best way to go. I always notice that the kids who come to my house who are banned from candy and sugar can go crazy when they see my candy jar, and steal handfuls when they think I’m not looking. I allow mine to eat chocolate and candy, and they (I don’t like to talk too soon) consequently are quite capable of walking past the candy or cookie jar without even taking anything. We all know that forbidden fruit tastes the sweetest, so banning food and lecturing them about eating what’s good for them is never going to work. But I do put plates of vegetable sticks on the table for them to pick at before supper, and it’s surprising how many little sticks of cucumber, carrot,
or celery they will eat without considering them vegetables!

What’s the question that people ask you too often?
What my favorite food is. I am far too wide-roamingly greedy to have one favorite food. Similarly, I don’t really like being asked what I don’t eat: embarrassingly, I can never think of anything!

What do you wish they’d ask you?
Anything—I love thinking and talking about food as much as I love cooking and eating it! 


 *photo from Lis Parsons

Duck Breasts with Pomegranate and Mint
Serves 8
From Nigella Express

This is my idea of perfect dinner-party food: It’s easy to make, not complicated to serve, and looks—and tastes–exquisite.

Feel free to broil, pan griddle, or grill your duck rather than sear it on the stove, and then roast it, but I just find I make the air too smoky when it’s on the stove.

I advise asking a friend to come and help you slice the meat.  Obviously, it’s not exactly hard work carving a duck breast, but so that the first slices aren’t cold by the time the last ones go on the serving platter, it makes sense to speed up the process. This is not a crucial consideration: It doesn’t actually matter what temperature these jeweled slivers of meat are.

4 duck breasts
8 cups arugula or watercress or salad chard or a mixture
1 pomegranate
1 small bunch fresh mint

1. Preheat the oven to 425°F.
2. Heat a flame proof, ovenproof pan on the stove and then sear the duck breasts, skin side down, for a minute or so over high heat.
3. Turn the duck breasts over and then place in the oven for about 15 minutes.
4. Remove the duck breasts from the oven and let them sit on a carving board while you get organized.  If you want to hold them at this stage, take them out of the oven at about 13 minutes and double-wrap in aluminum foil, then let them sit till you need them.
5. Line a meat plate or flattish platter with the salad leaves.
6. Slice each duck breast very thinly on the diagonal and lay on the salad-lined dish, pouring over any meat juices as you go.
7. Halve the pomegranate, and then bash out the seeds from your half to decorate the duck slices.  Squeeze some of the juice—just by hand—from the other half over the duck as well.
8. Tear off a handful of mint leaves and then finely chop them, scattering over the duck.

Pink Grapefruit Marmalade
Makes just over 1 quart
From How to Be a Domestic Goddess: Baking and the Art of Comfort Cooking

Please note the easy method for making this: no funny business with suspended cheesecloth involved.

2 pink grapefruit, weighing approximately 1 3⁄4 pounds
2 1⁄4 pounds or 5 cups sugar
Juice of 2 lemons
4–5 8-ounce jars or equivalent

1. Place a saucer in the freezer. 
2. Put the pink grapefruit into a large saucepan, fill with enough water so that they float freely, bring to the boil and simmer for about 2 hours, by which time the grapefruit should be very soft. Add more hot water from a kettle if the liquid’s boiling away. 
3. Drain, remove the fruit to a board and slice the cooked grapefruit thinly, and then chop a bit, using the whole fruit, pith and all (though remove any large seeds).
4. Put the grapefruit back into the saucepan, and add the sugar and lemon juice. Let the sugar dissolve over a gentle heat and then bring to the boil until setting point is reached, about 15 minutes.  After boiling for 15 minutes or so, test for setting point. The easy way to do this is to have a plate in the fridge. Place a teaspoon of the mixture on the plate, and leave for a minute. If the surface of the mixture creases when you push it, the marmalade is ready.
5. Ladle into prepared jars and close the lids.

Variations:
To make ordinary orange marmalade, boil the same weight of Seville oranges for the same amount of time. When they’re cooked and soft, take them out of the pan, reserving the liquid, cut them in half, scoop out the seeds and put them in a small pan, then chop up the oranges as finely or coarsely as you like and put them into a large pan.

Ladle some of the orange-cooking water over the seeds in the small pan and put on the heat, bring to the boil, and let boil for 5 minutes.  Strain this over the chopped oranges in their pan, add the juice of 2 lemons and stir in 5-6 cups sugar.  Bring to the boil gently, so that the sugar dissolves before the jam actually starts boiling and then proceed as above.

To make ginger-orange marmalade, add about 1 inch worth of finely sliced or chopped ginger to the seeds, and then push 1 inch’s worth of ginger, in batches, through a garlic press to extract the juice over the pan of chopped oranges.  Taste when you’ve reached setting point to see if you want to add more squeezed ginger.

I also love marmalade that is dark and treacly and especially aromatic: replace half the sugar with light brown (and add 1 tablespoonful of molasses if you like this really dark) and pour in a slug of rum or bourbon, once with the chopped oranges and again after setting point is reached.

Denise Landis has been the primary recipe tester for the New York Times Dining In/Dining Out section for the past 14 years. She is the author of Dinner for Eight: 40 Great Dinner Party Menus for Friends and Family.